


Choices & Consequences

by ItsJustALittleRain (MortalCyn)



Series: It Started Out With A Kiss [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arguing, Desire, Dry Humping, Explicit Language, Hand Jobs, Innuendo, Internal Conflict, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 02:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11476665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MortalCyn/pseuds/ItsJustALittleRain
Summary: A revelation from Sam about Castiel prompts Dean to consider his options. Explaining his choice proves challenging, but rewarding nonetheless.





	Choices & Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> Third story in the It Started Out With A Kiss series, depicting the formation of a relationship between Dean and Castiel. Takes place a few weeks after the events of Use Your Words.
> 
> Not beta read, so if you see something, please let me know. Once again, any and all feedback is greatly appreciated!

“Man, it’s good to be home,” Dean said, dropping his bag on the floor. He plunked down into the chair, kicking his feet up onto the table.

Sam sat down in his own chair, thoroughly relieved. “You don’t know how glad I am to hear you say that. The whole way back I was worried that you were going to ask for another case.”

Dean scoffed. “No. I think I’m good for a couple of days. That last case…” He shook his head. “That was something else. Pagan gods man, they really take a lot out of you.” He stretched. “I think a well deserved mini break is in order.”

“Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” Sam agreed. “I still think we should’ve called Cas.”

Dean cringed inwardly. _Could you not?!_ Sam had been name-dropping their absent friend all day long much to Dean’s irritation. He wasn’t sure how much more he could endure before he tried to tape his brother’s mouth shut. “Why? We handled it, didn’t we?” He gave a dismissive wave. “Let’s leave calling him for something a little more complicated.”

“You might be right,” Sam said. “It was pretty straightforward. Still, a pagan god pretending to be a priest, feeding on nuns.” He raised an eyebrow. “The Catholic church is kind of like Heaven’s PR department. I think Cas would like to know about the bad press.”

“Ha,” Dean replied, mentally preparing another deflection. “You wanna talk about bad press, how sad is it that the only reliable source of virgin sacrifices these days is a convent.” He shook his head. “And even then, you can never be one hundred percent. I’m pretty sure I caught the Mother Superior checking out my ass.” He shuddered.

“Better you than me,” Sam laughed. He leaned back and folded his arms behind his head. “How is Cas anyway?”

 _Oh, come on!_ “Why are you asking me?” Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. “Because he usually talks to you more than me. You haven’t mentioned him in a while. I was just wondering if you’d heard from him and maybe forgot to bring it up.”

“I haven’t heard anything,” Dean replied. 

“Huh,” said Sam. “Maybe you should call him then. Make sure everything is okay.”

Dean’s stomach lurched at the suggestion. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’s probably just busy,” he said, trying to be casual. 

“Doing what?” Sam asked, not even trying to keep the skepticism out of his voice.

“I don’t know,” Dean gritted, finally starting to lose his patience. “I’m not his keeper, alright?” He shot Sam a glare. “If you miss him so damn much, then why don’t you call him?” _Like he’d even show up._

Sam considered for a moment. “Fine. I will.” He closed his eyes. “Cas—”

Dean bristled. _Just my luck he’d show up this time to prove me wrong._ “Sam, if you finish that sentence I will punch you,” he threatened. 

Sam opened his eyes and sighed. “Alright. What the hell is going on between you two? And don’t say that it’s nothing.”

“Okay, I won’t,” Dean agreed. “I’ll say, it’s none of your damn business. Why do you care so much anyway?”

“Because Cas is our friend, and when I asked if you’d heard from him just now, you looked like you wanted the earth to open up and swallow you,” Sam replied. “You haven’t even said his name in weeks, and whenever I say it, you act like you’re receiving death by a thousand cuts.” He pointed at Dean. “And we have been hunting non-stop over a month. I’m not stupid, Dean. You are obviously running from something, and I’m sick of it. So unless you tell me what the hell is going on, I’ll just ask him myself.”

Dean grimaced. It was true, they had been hunting far more than usual. Every vampire, werewolf, ghost, or shapeshifter they had taken out over the past few weeks was just another brick in the wall he was building along that no man’s land of thoughts that should never see the light of day. It was easier to keep moving, keep hunting, keep saving people. Otherwise it was just too damn quiet in the bunker. Sam never minded the downtime. He’d exercise, read a couple books, geek out over some old Men of Letters film reels and the kid was fine. But Dean had realized there were only so many times he could clean his weapons and wash the Impala before his mind started wandering. No matter how many times he told it not to, it just kept drifting right on back to Cas. 

Dean wasn’t sure what bothered him the most, the fact that Cas had shut him down for the second time despite being the one to initiate it, the fact that Cas had left without giving either of them a chance to talk about what the hell was going on between them, or the fact that he was quite obviously avoiding him now. Cas had never let so much time go by before without at least checking in, and unless managing Heaven was a hell of a lot more complicated than he had let on, there was no other explanation for his absence. Dean had been sorely tempted to call him, but held out in fear that maybe he had read too much into it. They’d both been pissed, emotions running high, and some wires probably got crossed somewhere.

Except Dean was pretty sure that theory was bullshit. Cas had known exactly what the hell he was doing, in more ways than one. Dean knew that if he lived to be a hundred, he would never be able to forget those deceptively soft lips pressed against his own, nor the strength of those hands holding him in place. Worst of all, that tongue, impossibly lithe and warm. The intent had been clear, and he had responded accordingly, only to be left frustrated and questioning what he would have done had Cas not pulled away. If the incident in the motel room was anything to go by, whatever unspoken boundary that had previously existed between them seemed to be getting thinner all the time. The absolute last thing he wanted was for that barrier to come crashing down while Sam was anywhere in the vicinity.

 _Fuck it._ “He kissed me,” Dean muttered.

Sam’s eyebrows raised. “Wait, what?”

“Cas kissed me,” Dean repeated. “He friggin kissed me. There, are you happy now?”

“When was this?” Sam asked. “Where was I?”

“You weren’t there,” Dean explained. “It was that night I got mauled by the wendigo. Cas showed up to heal me, we had a fight, and then… the son of a bitch kissed me.”

“Huh,” Sam said. He shrugged. “Okay.”

Dean blinked. _Did he just say okay?_ He squinted at Sam. “What the hell do you mean, okay?”

Sam shrugged again. “Okay. Makes sense.”

Dean opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, closed it. _What?!_ “How the hell does any of that make sense?” he snapped.

Sam gave Dean a look. 

“What?” Dean asked, not caring for the silent insinuation in Sam’s facial expression.

“Dean, you and Cas have had a thing between you for as long as I can remember,” Sam sighed.

“What?” Dean exclaimed. “We do not have a thing!”

Sam gave Dean another look that said he was clearly unconvinced. “Uh huh. Tell it to the handprint on your arm. Who was it again that he gripped tight and raised from perdition?”

“Hey, he brought your ass back too!” Dean shot back.

“Yeah maybe so, but he didn’t get all of me,” Sam replied. “Not to mention, he basically only brought me back as a gift for you.”

“Yeah well,” Dean mumbled. “Still doesn’t mean that we have a thing.”

“Three words,” Sam started.

“Don’t you say it,” Dean warned.

“More. Profound. Bond,” Sam said, ticking them off on his fingers. He shrugged. “Face it Dean, as far as Cas is concerned, you’re it. I suppose it was only a matter of time before he let something slip. Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long.”

“Well, I guess,” Dean said grudgingly. “There might have been a few hints here and there—”

“Hints?” Sam said incredulously. “‘I did all of it for you.’ You call that a hint? Hell, Bobby and I might as well have not even existed.”

“My point,” Dean continued, rolling his eyes. “Is that, I never actually thought anything would happen. You know, I figured if I ignored it, maybe then it wouldn’t become an issue.” He sighed. “But now, I have to figure out what I’m going to do.”

“Well,” said Sam. “What do you want to do?”

“Do you think we’d be having this conversation if I knew the answer to that question?” Dean muttered. He shook his head. “No offense Sam, but you are the absolute last person on earth I wanted to be talking about this with.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Sam quipped.

“The thing is,” Dean said quietly. He took a breath. “Cas kissed me. But I didn’t exactly tell him to stop. I might have actually…” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Possibly… kissed him back. And I maybe might have given him the idea that it was okay in the first place.” He put his palm over his face. “The night we got drunk, I kind of made a pass at him in the hallway. So you can see my problem here.”

Sam considered for a moment. “What’s the problem?”

Dean lowered his hand and stared at his brother. “Come on Sam! He’s... you know! And I’m me. How the hell would that work? How the hell does any of this even work?” He gestured at Sam. “What the hell would you do in my position, huh?”

Sam leaned back in his chair. “Huh.” He scratched his head thoughtfully. “Honestly? I don’t know. There was a time where I might’ve considered it, but Cas didn’t choose me. He chose you.”

Dean blinked. “What do you mean, there was a time where you might have considered it? Considered what exactly?”

Sam sighed. “After the thing with Ruby, and being tricked into freeing Lucifer, I had a pretty low opinion of myself. And it didn’t help that you didn’t trust me, or that Bobby got paralyzed, or that I was trying to pretend like I wasn’t still hooked on demon blood.” He shook his head. “I was in pretty bad shape. And then I would see the way that Cas looked at you. And Dean, you know that I had always wanted to see an angel, even before we knew for sure that they existed.”

“Yeah, I vaguely remember you fangirling out over Cas the first time you met,” Dean admitted. “But I didn’t realize that you were crushing on him.”

“I wasn’t,” Sam said. “Not at first. But the more time we spent around him, I started to think that if I could just get him to, I don’t know… look at me the way that he looked at you, that maybe I could start to feel human again. I mean, here was this incredibly powerful being, all pure goodness and light, and it just called to me…” He shrugged. “But like I said, he only had eyes for you. And then the thing happened with Lucifer and the cage, and the next time I saw him, I didn’t have my soul, and then once I finally did have my soul, I didn’t feel the same way. So that was that,” he finished.

Dean stared at Sam as if he’d just told him the moon was made of cheese.

“What?” Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. “Nothing. Just… wow Sammy.”

“You asked,” Sam replied, shrugging again. “But to answer your question, I don’t know what I’d do if I were in your position, and it doesn’t matter. What matters is, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “I guess, part of me wants to pretend like it never happened. You know, just ignore it and keep hunting, and maybe a few years down the line I can forget about it.”

“A few years?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows.

“What can I say?” Dean asked sarcastically. “It kind of left an impression.”

“I get that,” Sam replied. “What does the rest of you want?”

“To talk to him,” Dean admitted. “Maybe kick his ass? I don’t know.”

“Well,” Sam said. “You were never really able to kick his ass before, and I definitely don’t think that you’re going to be able to do it now that he’s been upgraded, so yeah, good luck with that. You might not want to try to solve this one with fists.” Sam considered. “Although…” he trailed off snickering.

"Sam,” Dean warned, “I swear, if you make a joke about fisting right now, I will strangle you in your sleep.”

Sam put his hands up, still snickering. “Okay, I won’t.” He took a few seconds to get his laughter under control and then cleared his throat. “In all seriousness Dean, whatever you decide to do, I’ll support you either way. You’re my brother, and we’ve known Cas so long that he’s basically family already.” His eyes sparkled. “You could almost say he’s practically my brother-in-law.”

Dean groaned. “I hate you, you know that right?” He shook his head, knowing this was just the beginning of the teasing he would be subjected to from now on, regardless of his choice of action. _So it begins. The tip of the goddamn iceberg. I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Nothing good ever comes from the truth._ “I regret telling you this. I really do.”

“Well I’m glad you did,” Sam replied. “Keeping secrets from each other hasn’t worked out so great for us in the past.”

“Says the one with a secret crush,” Dean muttered. “I’ll bet if I checked your room right now, I’d find one of his feathers being used as a bookmark.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Real mature, Dean.” He stood up. “Like I said, I’m over it. You’re the one who kissed him back, remember?” He yawned. “Anyway, I’m going to get some rest before you change your mind and ask for another hunt. See you in the morning.”

Dean sat at the table a few minutes after Sam had gone, mulling over his prospects. He could go to bed, wait a few days, and continue hunting, with the hope that one day he would wake up with a clear mind. Or he could confront his tormentor and settle this right now. _Fuck it._ His mind made up, he grabbed the keys to the Impala.

 

_This was a bad idea, this was a bad idea, this was a bad idea._

Dean knew that he was gripping the steering wheel much too tightly, but he couldn’t will his fingers to loosen. He had already driven over an hour away from the bunker, and still hadn’t mustered up the nerve to call Cas. Every gas station, diner, or motel that he passed, none of them had seemed right. And now there was nothing else around, just miles of farm land, with wide open fields of tall grass stretching out towards the horizon in either direction.

An idea formed in Dean’s mind. His heart beating wildly, he hit a sharp left turn and drove the Impala out into the grassy field. Thankfully the tires didn’t lose their purchase, and he gradually eased off the accelerator once he could no longer see the road in his rearview mirror. He slowed Baby to a stop and shut off the engine. _I hope I don’t get lost out here. Won’t that be a fun story to tell Sam._

Dean shook his head. He was stalling and he knew it. With the enthusiasm of a man being dragged off to the electric chair, he opened the door to the Impala and stepped out into the grass. He was immediately struck by the silence of it all. It was still too chilly for crickets and the darkness seemed to go on forever. The only light was from the stars, shining brilliantly, seemingly brighter than Dean had recalled in some time. He was distantly reminded of a rare field trip that he’d managed to sneak along for back in middle school, to a planetarium. These stars were like those, almost artificially bright. _I bet I could spot some constellations, if I knew what I was looking for._

Dean sighed. _Stalling again. Here goes nothing._ He cleared his mind and closed his eyes, face turned upward to the night sky. _Cas? If you can hear me, I really need to talk to you. It’s important. Please._ He hadn’t even finished his silent prayer when he felt a gust of wind across his face. Dean opened his eyes.

Castiel was standing a few feet away, his features just barely illuminated by the starlight.

Dean swallowed hard. “Hey Cas.”

“Hello Dean,” Castiel replied. “What’s wrong?”

Dean fidgeted. “Nothing. I mean, everything is good. How you been?”

Castiel eyed Dean strangely. “I’m fine. What did you need to talk to me about? What was important? Is everything alright with Sam?”

Dean clenched and unclenched his fists. “Sam’s fine. It’s just, I um…” He noticed Cas dropping his gaze to study his wildly twitching hands, and jammed them into his pockets to hide them from view. _Crap. What the hell do I even say?_ “Sam used to have a crush on you,” he blurted out.

Castiel blinked. “Alright,” he said after a few moments.

Dean stared, mouth slightly agape. _Okay? Alright? Sheesh, the two of them are more alike than I ever realized._ He ignored the slight pang of jealousy at the thought. “Wait a minute. Cas, I drop a bombshell like that, and that’s all you have to say? Alright?”

Castiel nodded slowly. “Yes. Your use of the past tense infers that whatever feelings Sam might have once held for me are no longer present. So... Alright. While I appreciate you sharing this information with me, I am not sure of its relevance at this time.”

 _I guess Sam was right, Cas isn’t interested. Sorry Sammy._ Dean cleared his throat. “Anyway, that’s not what I called you down here to say. I just wanted to catch up. See what’s new, you know.”

Castiel stared at Dean. “There isn’t anything new.” He looked around, seeming to finally realize they were standing in the middle of a field. “Dean, what are you doing all the way out here?”

Dean shrugged, trying desperately to appear nonchalant. “I decided to go for a late drive. You know, get out of the bunker and get some fresh air.” He waved a hand around. “This looked like a good spot to stop and just take it all in. Nice night, huh?”

Castiel looked around again, considering. “I suppose. Mild temperature, slight chill in the air, reasonably quiet. As far as nights go, this seems like an acceptable one.”

“And the stars, right?” Dean continued. “Man, are they bright. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this lit up before.”

Castiel gazed upward. “They are indeed bright,” he agreed. “Of course, they are always this exact level of brightness, it’s just that changing weather patterns affect your ability to perceive them clearly.”

Dean cleared his throat and shifted his weight on his other leg. “So were you around back then? When they were made, I mean.”

“I was,” Castiel answered. “At the time, I did not see the purpose of their existence. They were simply burning spheres of gas, strewn intermittently throughout the vastness of space. Seemingly without pattern or reason. Like so many of my father’s creations, it all seemed rather unnecessary. But seeing them here now, from a different perspective…” He glanced at Dean. “I can understand the appeal.”

The only sound was that of the wind, rustling the grass.

“Dean,” Castiel said, after a long moment.

Dean shuffled his feet. “Yeah.” _This talking crap is hard. I don't know what the hell I was expecting._

Castiel sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Dean blinked. _Definitely wasn’t expecting an apology._ “Sorry for what?” he asked.

“For not controlling myself,” Castiel replied, glancing at the sky. “I assume that you have called me down here to express your displeasure at my actions in the motel room, and I want you to know that I am sorry. I knew better than to do what I did. I knew that it would change things.”

 _Change things? If by change things, you mean twist me up like a fucking fidget spinner…_ “Then why did you do it?” Dean questioned after a long moment.

“I don’t know.”

Dean stared in disbelief. _Is he serious?!_ “You don’t know?” he asked. 

“I don’t know,” Castiel repeated.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “What the hell do you mean, you don’t know?”

“Dean,” Castiel started. “I said that I was sorry. I don’t know what else you want me to say—”

“You could start with the truth,” Dean snapped. “Or is that too much to ask?”

Castiel shook his head. “Dean, I didn’t mean to imply—”

“Sam and I,” Dean interrupted. “We have been hunting non-stop for weeks. I have been dragging his ass all over the damn country, trying to keep myself busy so that I can be tired enough at night that when my head finally hits the pillow, I can actually fall asleep, and not lie awake all night… thinking about what happened in that motel room.” 

Castiel sighed again.

Dean continued. “So when you stand there and tell me, that you don’t know…” He shook his head. “That just doesn’t cut it. I’m going to need you to do better than that Cas. Unlike you, I can’t read minds.”

Castiel gazed up at the stars again. “I don’t think that you need to able to read my mind. I am fairly certain that we both know the answer to your question,” he said quietly. “When I say that I don’t know, what I mean is that I don’t know which combination of words would make clear to you something that my actions over the past eight years have somehow failed to do,” he finished, turning his stare to Dean.

Dean felt as if he’d been struck by a bolt of lightning. He already knew the combination of words. He had heard them often enough throughout the years. On long sleepless nights they sometimes came to him as if in a dream, floating out of his memories. _‘All of it for you.’ ‘He was your boyfriend first.’ ‘You have me confused with the other angel. You know the one in the dirty trench coat who’s in love with you.’ ‘Ever since he laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost!’_ And then the last, _‘I could go with you.’_ At the zero hour, knowing that certain death awaited him, most likely permanent this time, he had offered to go with Dean to bring him some measure of comfort in his final moments. 

_Actions speak louder than words, but sometimes words can speak pretty damn loud too._ Dean swallowed hard, the next question dragged out of him as if by hellhounds. “Then why did you stop?”

Castiel continued to stare at Dean.

Dean felt every second stretching out into eternity under the scrutiny of Cas’ stare. _Because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have,_ was the message he was getting. 

“Because,” Castiel said finally, “Your response was purely biological in nature. It would have been wrong for me to continue, knowing that.”

“And what about the avoiding me part?” Dean asked. “You have been avoiding me, am I right?”

“I didn’t know if you would want to see me after what happened. I decided I would stay away unless you contacted me.” Castiel gave Dean a wry look. “I felt that perhaps if enough time passed, things might return to normal.”

“Normal?” Dean ran a hand through his hair. “Cas, I have turned down more waitresses and bartenders over the past few weeks than I can keep up with.” He groaned. “Do you have any idea how far from normal that is for me?”

Castiel shook his head. “What you do, and who you do it with, is none of my concern, Dean.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Dean huffed. _Think, dammit! Of course he doesn’t get it. Okay._ “If you had been a woman,” he started. “If you had picked Jane or I don’t know, Jenny instead of Jimmy,” he sighed, and shook his head. “To be honest, I probably would’ve tried to nail you the first night we met, angel or not. I would’ve given it a shot.”

“If you had, I would’ve thrown you back into the pit,” Castiel said drily.

“Doesn’t matter, had sex,” Dean quipped. “My point is, I know without a doubt, that if you had still been you, but a her, I definitely would’ve made it happen by now. I’ve known that for years.”

“That is highly unsurprising,” Castiel replied. “Given your habits, it stands to reason that you consider any adult female of moderate to high attractiveness to be a suitable candidate.” 

Dean groaned and put a hand to his forehead. _You are killing me right now!_ “Cas,” he said. “Are you even listening?” He shook his head. “You know, if Sam were in my place, he probably would’ve known all the right things to say. He’s so much better at this type of crap!”

Castiel leaned his head to the side and gave Dean a scrutinizing look. “You keep mentioning Sam. Are you trying to tell me somethin—”

“Shut up,” Dean cut in. “Yes, I am trying to tell you something.” He took a deep breath. “You and me, we’ve got this thing. And I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s there. It just is.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “And the things that I thought mattered, the reasons why I never tried with you… I am telling you, that at some point, none of it matters. It just stopped mattering. Are you getting what I’m saying Cas?”

“Dean—”

“I didn’t want the waitresses and I didn’t want the bartenders,” Dean ground out, his pulse racing. “I want you. As is. Current make and model.” He threw his hands up. “That’s why I kissed you that night that I was drunk, and that’s why I kissed you back in the motel room! Still think that it’s none of your concern?”

“Not as much, no,” Castiel said quietly. 

“So don’t try to insult my intelligence and feed me some bullshit about a biological response,” Dean muttered. “If any other guy had pulled that stunt that you pulled, I would’ve emptied a clip in them. I damn sure wouldn’t have kissed them back.”

“Alright,” Castiel replied.

“Is that all you know how to say?” Dean snapped, starting to get annoyed by Cas’ apparent indifference to the entire situation. _I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack any second now and he hasn’t even moved._ “Kind of having a moment here Cas, and all you have to say is alright?” He rolled his eyes. “I knew this was a bad fucking idea. You’re just too damn distant.” 

Dean suddenly found himself pressed back against the Impala.

Castiel stared at Dean, their faces just a few inches apart. “Does this seem distant to you?” 

“No, not at the moment,” Dean stammered, his face reddening slightly. _Damn, he’s fast._

Castiel continued to stare at Dean, watching for any sign of uncertainty. “If I sometimes come across as distant,” he began, “it is only because I am trying to do what you have always asked of me. You were the one constantly reminding me of the importance of personal space.”

“Well yeah,” Dean admitted. “But that was back then, before I knew you. I mean really knew you.”

“Has so much truly changed since then?” Castiel asked. His eyes gazed into Dean’s, searching out the answer, unsure if he would even believe the truth once he heard it.

“Yes,” Dean replied, after a long moment. “Didn’t change overnight, but still…” He swallowed hard. “I mean, I haven’t told you to back off me yet, have I?”

“No, you haven’t,” Castiel answered quietly. “You didn’t call me out here to look at the stars, did you?”

“Hell no,” Dean said. He tentatively placed a hand on Castiel’s hip and watched the way the angel instantly dropped his gaze to study it, as though he couldn’t process what was happening. When he finally looked back up, Dean leaned in and kissed him.

The silence seemed to deepen somehow, as if their spot in the field had suddenly dropped out of time and space entirely. Had been, as Cas put it, strewn intermittently amongst the vastness of space.

Dean tightened his grip on Cas’ hipbone, coaxing him in with his lips. This was it. It was all out on the line now. No more pretending not to notice the way Cas’ eyes followed his every move. No more acting like the angel’s quirky little mannerisms didn’t make his heart clench in his chest. It was real now. _Come on, Cas. Don’t leave me hanging out here by myself._ Dean felt the unmistakable sensation of fingers curling into his hair and the relief was immense. _Thank God._

Castiel grazed his fingers through Dean’s hair, the scent of him wafting in the breeze. He hadn’t known exactly what to expect when Dean called to him. Of course he had hoped, but without any real expectation that the hunter would ever be able to truthfully acknowledge the thing that had been growing between them for such a long time. And now, here he was, pressed against him, his mouth deliciously warm, his body firm and responsive, molding to his own as though it were meant for him.

Dean slipped his hands inside of Cas’ coat, drawing him in tighter against his own body. He broke contact with his lips and turned his head to nip along Cas’ jaw line, his blood racing at the soft sound of approval he elicited from the angel. He felt Cas’ hands slide underneath his own coat and up the back of his shirt, his nerves lighting up with each caress of his skin.

Castiel explored the muscles of Dean’s back, mapping out every inch of skin beneath his hands. He had never touched him like this before, not even when he was rebuilding his body. That had been clinical, all business, just a mission to be completed. This was exhilarating, intimately personal, and deeply pleasurable.

Dean tried not to think about how impossibly turned on he was getting from this. _We were just supposed to talk, dammit!_ He cleared his throat. “Cas, not that I’m not having a good time, because I am, believe me,” he insisted, “but I’m actually getting kind of cold.” 

“Oh, of course,” Castiel said, trying not to seem too obviously disappointed. “Would you like to go home?”

 _Yeah, I’ll bet Sam would just love that…_ “Well actually, I was thinking we could, um, get in the back seat for a bit,” Dean suggested, hoping he sounded much calmer than he actually felt. 

Castiel tilted his head to the side, considering. “Will it be warm enough inside for you?”

Dean blinked. _Whoa. Zero to sixty, Cas._

“Did I say something wrong?” Castiel asked, noticing Dean’s stunned expression.

“It’s nothing,” Dean replied, shaking his head to clear the mental imagery. “I’ll be fine in the car. Just take my word for it.” He reached behind himself for the door handle. Not taking his eyes off of Cas, he slid across the seat, his pulse racing at the almost feral way Cas was watching him. He had the distinct impression of being hunted as Cas joined him in the backseat, the perfect silence punctuated by the closing of the door.

Castiel gazed patiently at Dean, sensing his nervousness.

Dean swallowed. “Why don’t you get comfortable?”

“I am fairly comfortable,” Castiel answered. “You were right. The temperature is much more preferable in here.”

Dean sighed. “I meant, lose some of the clothes. Once again, kind of feels like I’m getting ready to be investigated by the IRS.”

“Oh,” Castiel replied. “Alright.” He took off his coat and jacket, draping them carefully across the back of the front passenger seat. He glanced at Dean, waiting to see if he should continue further. When the hunter nodded, Castiel loosened his tie, letting it hang casually undone.

Dean didn’t even try to hide the very visible shudder than ran through him. “Fuck,” he muttered. _What the hell did I get myself into?_ He was rapt as Cas unfastened the buttons of his shirt. With every inch of skin that was revealed, Dean felt his pulse pounding harder, until he was sure the angel could hear it. 

Castiel paused, his shirt now completely open. “Dean? Are you alright? Your heartbeat is concerning. You seem anxious.”

 _You think?!_ Dean forced what he hoped was a perfectly normal, casual, and not at all deranged-looking smile. “I’m good, Cas. Really. Just, uh, admiring the view, so to speak.”

“Okay,” Castiel replied. He reached for his belt.

Dean’s eyes widened. _Well damn!_ “What are you doing?!”

Castiel paused, his brows furrowed. “I was going to remove my pants and undergarments. Should I not undress completely?”

Dean blinked. “Uh, maybe let’s not take things quite that fast, okay? Let’s just keep it above the belt for now.”

“Alright,” Castiel agreed. His eyes swept over Dean’s form. “Are you going to remove any clothing? I won’t let you get cold.”

In all truth, the cold was now the furthest thing from Dean’s mind, but he made a show of considering it, only so that he could observe the slight rise and fall of Cas’ chest as he sat on the seat, patiently waiting for an answer. _In for a penny, in for a pound._ Dean shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it into the front seat. Slowly, he lifted his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and freeing his arms. He dropped it behind him on the seat, a thin barrier between his skin and the chill of the leather.

Castiel stared openly, his appreciation for the physique laid out before him evident in the heat in his eyes.

Dean swallowed hard. “Come here.”

Castiel tentatively raised a hand to Dean’s chest.

“Do it,” Dean murmured.

Castiel pressed his palm against Dean’s skin. He splayed his fingers and stroked across the expanse of his chest, watching the way the hunter’s eyelids fluttered ever so slightly. He dragged his fingertips down the sides of his torso, feeling the muscles twitch beneath his touch.

Dean didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until Castiel quietly told him to breathe. He sucked in a gulp of air, his body arching into the movement of Cas’ hands, seeking out the warmth of each caress. He raised his own hands to the angel’s shoulders, pulling him in closer.

Castiel froze as he found himself pressed chest to chest with Dean, the hunter’s own hands roaming boldly across his back. “Dean—”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Dean breathed.

This was the kind of deep, sensuous, unapologetically hungry, open-mouthed tongue fucking that dreams were made of. Dean was loathe to break contact for even a second. He hurriedly snatched rushed breaths of air when he could, diving back under so quickly it made him dizzy. He was practically melted into the seat, one leg hanging over the edge, the other trapped by Cas’ hip.

And that goddamn thigh. It was driving him insane. Maybe it was an accident, the perfect placement, the way that it had just inadvertently landed pressed against him, between his spread legs. Every time Cas shifted, it would drag against him, mercilessly teasing his already painfully hard cock. _Why did I stop him from getting undressed?! I should’ve let him take it all off. Fucking all of it._

In all the world, there had never been a sweeter sound to Castiel’s ears than the sound that Dean would make every time he brushed his thigh against him. The moment he saw the way his hunter’s green eyes would squeeze shut, felt his sudden intake of breath, and heard his quiet moan, Castiel made it a point to keep doing it.

 _It's too fucking much._ Dean was falling to pieces, burning away into the most exquisite sexual frustration. _Fuck this._ He worked a hand down between them, unfastening Castiel’s belt with lightning speed.

Castiel’s eyes widened. “Dean? I thought you said—”

“Yeah,” Dean whispered. “I know what I said, but I have got to at least touch you, or else I’ll lose my damn mind…” His hand slid down the front of Cas’ slacks. He bit back a groan when he immediately found what he was looking for, curving upward, the head damp with warm pre-come. He wrapped his fingers around the hard length, marveling inwardly at the smooth thickness of it.

Castiel let out a low sound that was half growl, half groan.

 _Oh fuck... That sound... That fucking sound..._ That was it. Dean closed his eyes and arched back into the seat, his legs squeezing around Cas’ thigh as he came in his jeans. “Oh fuck me…” he breathed, his body shaking. _That was not supposed to happen._ Then he felt Cas’ warm breath on his neck, the slick heavy drag of his cock as he fucked into Dean’s grip, at last just as desperate and worked up as Dean had felt since they started this. Eight years worth of want and need finally given release. His hands were holding onto Dean’s shoulders so tightly, Dean knew there would be bruises later, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to take Cas apart, the way he had come apart, and soon he got his wish. He heard it, the sharp almost reverent breath, and then his hand was impossibly hot and wet.

They laid there quietly for a few minutes, Castiel listening to Dean’s even breathing.

“So,” Dean said, once the ability for coherent thought had returned.

Castiel looked down at him. “So?”

“Nice talk,” Dean quipped.

Castiel let out a low laugh and shook his head. “I suppose it was.” He sat up, shifting his weight off of Dean. “Although, we did not actually do much talking.”

“Really?” Dean asked, not making any move to get up. “I actually think we talked too much.”

Castiel raised his eyebrow. “Do you mean to tell me that all of your concerns regarding us have been addressed? You are now content and fully secure in your knowledge?”

“Just don’t disappear on me again,” Dean blurted out, slightly harsher than he meant to sound, just not wanting to seem needy. “I don’t like it when you disappear for long periods of time,” he added quietly.

Castiel nodded. “Alright. Would you like me to accompany you back to the bunker?”

Dean glanced at the windows. They were now completely fogged over, but he could see that it was still dark outside. “Not just yet. I need to talk to Sam first, let him know what’s going on. But I would appreciate it if you at least stayed with me until sunrise.” He patted the space beside him. “Lie your ass back down here.”

Obligingly Castiel reclined beside Dean, carefully pressed against his warm form. “Dean,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“I lied earlier,” Castiel admitted. “I wasn’t sorry that I kissed you in the motel room.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I knew you weren’t, you fucking liar.” He gave Cas’ thigh a squeeze.

Castiel shuddered and pressed tighter against Dean. “However, I am sorry that I waited so long to do it.”

“Yeah well, better late than never I guess.” Dean sighed contentedly. “Hey Cas, can I ask you a question?”

“You just did,” Castiel murmured against the side of Dean’s neck.

 _Always the smartass._ Dean resisted the urge to elbow Cas off the seat. “Do all the angels smell this damn good, or is it just you?”

 

Sam heard the bunker door slam shut and looked up from his laptop. 

Dean slowly clopped down the stairs, fatigue making his limbs feel ten times heavier than usual. _I should’ve let Cas drive me home, but that would’ve made me feel like a prom date._ He spotted Sam and froze, his eyes narrowing.

Sam surreptitiously took note of Dean’s disheveled appearance. His hair looked as though someone had dragged him by it, his clothes were rumpled beyond saving, and he obviously had not slept at all since the last time they spoke. Sam pretended to be completely engrossed in his computer screen.

 _Wise choice._ Dean silently headed off to bed.

Sam smiled to himself. _Congrats guys. It’s about time._


End file.
